A tribute to the greatest Celeste1, who managed to make me love these characters. For some strange reason, I woke up today with the urge to write Yumichika, but when I tried it turned somewhat angsty and really lame, so I started over and this came out. Hope you like it!

Thanks to everyone who has read this story, and special thanks to those who actually reviewed. Keep on doing it, 'cause I'm one review whore.

Bittersweet

By: Nekare

Torture

It is a fine day. The birds chirp their endless song, full of mirth and happiness and all things nice. Blue sky is tinted with pristine white clouds, not a piece of gray marring the fluffy mix of gases and water steam. The sounds of children playing can be heard through the tall wall that encloses the part of Soul Society reserved for shinigami only, and the noises from anxious students can be heard from the academy. It is a fine day.

It is a fine day to torture someone.

So Yumichika hums to himself as he approaches the head quarters of the ninth division, a picnic basket hanging from his arm, moving in time with the rhythm of the song. He waves at familiar people as he passes by, a smile so perfect it could only have been practiced on the mirror – a fact everyone usually tries to ignore, as the fifth seat likes to think no one knows of his little secret; well, that and the point that he uses wigs with regularity.

There's always a gift for the guards at the doors, most often that not some delicate pastry, always given with a wink and a secretive smile; a request for silence. He passes the gates, and uses the grace he's so well known for when he tiptoes across the place, no suspicions of his presence as he finally sets eyes on his pray, a smirk painted on his lips. He stalks his pray, malice that can only be found in the eleventh division glowing in his eyes. He prepares himself. He attacks.

He jumps out of the darkness, latching himself to one very surprised – and slightly scared, even if he won't admit it – vice-captain Hisagi.

"Ahh!" Shuuhei screams in a very high, very undignified – and God forbid, very girly – way. "What are you doing!" He says still yelling, looking down at the other shinigami, who is in turn looking up.

"What does it looks like? I'm visiting my favorite person in the world!" Yumichika says brightly, still not letting go of the other man. His voice goes up a notch, turning his head to the entire ninth division training in the backyard under the attentive eye of their top authority, "Who also happens to be the person I defeated back then!"

Hisagi's eyes close at the same time he grits his teeth. This has become somewhat of a tradition, the extravagant shinigami coming once in a while to humiliate him in front of his subordinates – a few of them, by the way, losing their respect for him in the process – with a happy grin and a smug voice. He's starting to lose his patience, as is obvious from the fact that he's holding his breath as he slowly counts to ten.

The further he gets is three. "Get. Off. Me."

"Nope, don't think I will." A slightly psychotic grin is on his face as he watches the vice-captain going red in the face with anger. "Tsk, tsk, you better watch that temper, Shuuhei-chan."

It is a fine day for torture a la eleventh division style.